


Party Favors

by SunflowerSupreme



Series: Witcher (Gift Verse) [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alpha Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Gen, Omega Jaskier | Dandelion, Sexual Harassment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:41:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27749926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunflowerSupreme/pseuds/SunflowerSupreme
Summary: “Geralt,” Dandelion curled a ringlet around his finger, leaning in the doorway of the Witcher’s room. “Am I going as your Omega or your friend?”
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Witcher (Gift Verse) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2009548
Comments: 15
Kudos: 247





	Party Favors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MaxDoesThingsTheyShouldnt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxDoesThingsTheyShouldnt/gifts), [Sigery97](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sigery97/gifts).



> DixieJoy and Sigery97 both asked for variations on “what happens if Dandelion and Geralt go to a banquet” so here it is!

“Geralt,” Dandelion curled a ringlet around his finger, leaning in the doorway of the Witcher’s room. “Am I going as your Omega or your friend?”

“There’s a difference?”

He pursed his lips. “If I’m your Omega, I would wear a collar and manacles. No chain, just for decoration.”

“Just wear what you want,” Geralt said quietly.

Dandelion sighed, pushing himself off the doorframe. “It’s not that simple, love,” he said, leaning on Geralt’s side. “If I go as your Omega I could sit in your lap and you could feed me, I know you love that. But if I’m going as your friend… well, it would be best if you didn’t touch me at all.”

“I thought you would want to play music.”

“I can do that either way,” Dandelion promised.

“Pick what you prefer and tell me what I need to do,” Geralt said, pressing a warm kiss to his neck. “Go on.”

Dandelion dolled himself up as a court entertainer, delighted to have the chance to play music without having to take anyone to bed at the end of the night (except perhaps Geralt, and even then, only if made the first move). He used plain makeup, not the flavored kind that Geralt loved so much, because it laid more neatly on his skin, giving him the appearance that it was entirely natural.

He picked a proper tailored shirt and matching pants, rather than the gauzy, see through clothes he’d worn as a member of the Harem and smirked at his reflection in the mirror as he topped it off with a feathered hat.

“Heard there was a bird terrorizing you,” rumbled Geralt’s voice from the door. “I’m not surprised it’s just your fashion sense.”

Dandelion winked at him, popping his cherry red lips and giving himself one last look in the mirror. “Alright,” he said, taking Geralt’s arm. “Let’s go.”

* * *

The Harem Omegas wove through the crowd, giggling and chattering with guests, sitting in the laps of Alphas they hoped to be picked by for a later heat, or playing music and singing.

Geralt found himself a dark corner and shooed Dandelion off, telling him to enjoy himself. He didn’t need to be told twice, making a beeline for the nearest familiar face.

“Mir!” he cried, giving her a quick kiss on her lips.

“Dandelion!” the Omega gasped, her eyes widening. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I’m here with Geralt,” he preened.

She looked around, then pulled him into a side alcove that was typically used by Alphas who wanted to get a better look at an Omega before claiming their upcoming heat. Mir cupped his face, studying him with her emerald eyes. “I can’t believe you’re walking,” she whispered.

“You did tell me that Witchers have barbed cocks,” Dandelion grumbled, pursing his hips. A quick glance in the mirror over Mir’s shoulder revealed his makeup was unsmudged. _Excellent_.

“Does he?”

“No.”

Her shoulders relaxed. “Thank Melitele,” she whispered, pulling him into a hug. “Does he hurt you, my love?”

Mir was one of Dandelion’s closest friends in the Harem. Several years older than him, nearing the end of her peak fertility, she’d taken him under her wing when he’d first arrived. She had taught him every trick she knew, from making an Alpha come quicker to flirting with them to make them less violent. It had been Mir who had supervised his training, watching as he learned to suck cock or as they filled his hole with increasingly large toys. When he’d cried for his parents Mir had been the one to strap him - his first punishment in the Harem - and told him that they were his family now.

When he’d lost his daughter Mir had held him for hours and promised him it would all be okay.

Dandelion’s silence must have worried her, because she pushed a kiss to his lips. “Tell me what he does,” she whispered. “Let it out, it will help. Does he use his hand or an implement? It’s alright, whatever he does, you’ll survive.”

“His belt,” Dandelion said. “But only when I ask for it.”

“What does that mean?”

“He only whips me if I let him,” Dandelion explained.

“What about when you misbehave?”

He smiled. “He kisses me and calls me a brat.”

Kneeling in front of him she pulled his pants down, turning him around to inspect his hole. Dandelion rolled his eyes but indulged her.

“You’re not even hurt,” she said in disbelief, rubbing her finger down his crack.

“Of course not,” Dandelion pulled his pants up.“I told you, he’s kind to me.”

“Dandelion, he’s a Witcher,” whispered Mir. “And an Alpha.”

“And a good man, Mir, I promise.”

* * *

Dandelion played his lute until his fingers hurt, laughing and flirting happily with everyone around him. Omega, Beta, Alpha, it didn’t matter, he blew them all kisses anyway.

He should have known it would end poorly.

It was late in the night and he was growing tired, his fingers numb. Finishing his set he hoped off the table he’d been perched on and bowed, smiling and accepting the cheers of the small auidence he’d acquired. Then a hand wrapped over his mouth, another sliding inside his trousers, wrapping painfully around his cock. 

“Has anyone claimed your heat yet, Omega?” He didn’t recognize the voice, except that it was clearly an Alpha.

Mir, who had been perched in an Earl’s lap, jumped off him and ran. Dandelion hoped she went for Geralt.

He knew better than to fight the Alpha, even to explain what was happening, that he wasn’t available. The only time he’d tried to fight an Alpha in court he’d been dragged into one of the alcoves and beaten with the man’s belt. So instead he relaxed his muscles, closing his eyes and nodding slowly.

“Oh?” the man asked. “I intend to out bid them.”

The auidence around them laughed, not at all bothered by what was going on. Evidently word hadn’t spread that Dandelion was no longer in the Harem.

“I heard your womb isn’t so sweet anymore, my flower,” he purred into Dandelion’s ear. The hand on his cock tightened, fingernails digging in. Dandelion held back a sob and struggled to breathe through his nose. “But that doesn’t matter to me. I’ll hold you down and fill you up anyway.”

The Alpha suddenly went very tense, a spike of fear going through his scent. Mir reappeared in front of him, holding her arms out to Dandelion. Behind her, the onlookers’ eyes widened, staring at something behind Dandelion.

“No, you won’t,” growled Geralt’s familiar voice. “Let my friend go.”

Dandelion pulled forward and tumbled into Mir’s arms, turning back to see Geralt, standing behind his assailant, a knife pressed to the man’s back. He gave Dandelion a quick glance to ensure he was alright, then looked back at the corner Alpha.

“Get out,” the Witcher growled, flashing his fangs. “And don’t touch people without asking first.”

He had never in his life seen an Alpha run as quickly as that one did.

“He didn’t want it,” said Mir quickly, watching Geralt worriedly as the Witcher tracked the escaping Alpha. She rubbed Dandelion’s shoulder soothingly.

“I know,” Geralt promised, putting away his knife. Giving Dandelion’s auidence a disgusted look he asked, “No one had a problem with that?”

“He’s in the Harem-” began the earl Mir had been entertaining.

“No, he’s not,” snapped Geralt. “And even if he was, I could smell his fear halfway across the room.” None of them said anything. Geralt’s nose wrinkled. “You’re disgusting,” he informed the auidence bluntly. Pointing to Mir he said, “She has more guts than all of you.”

She blinked in surprise. Dandelion managed a smile and wished he could see the look on the Alpha’s faces.

Geralt’s eyes flicked to Dandelion. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” the poet whispered weakly, still trembling. He wasn’t really. His cock throbbed and he was certain it would bruise. Judging by the flicker in Geralt’s eyes, the Witcher knew he was still in pain.

“Come on,” he said softly. “Let’s go home.”

Dandelion ran to him, attaching himself to Geralt’s side and allowing the Witcher to lead him from the hall.

He kept his hand loosely on Dandelion’s back as they left the palace, stepping out into the night air. There was nothing possessive about the way he held him, it was soothing, protecting. Dandelion loved him for it.

“Don’t mind him,” said the poet quietly as they made their way down the cobblestone street to Geralt’s home. “He won’t have access to the Harem. There’s rules about about what you can do to us, and Mir will surely report him.”

“So rape is acceptable as long as it follows their rules?”

“Yes.” Dandelion shrugged. “Its better than being on the street, or in a brothel.”

“Doesn’t make it right.”

Again, he could only shrug.

Geralt opened the door and let Dandelion slip in first, hanging his lute on a peg. The Witcher shrugged off his jacket and put it up, then looked at Dandelion. “I know you’re in pain.”

“Its _fine_ -”

“May I look?”

“Alright, Geralt, if it will make you feel better.”

He led Dandelion to his bedroom, knowing the man would complain that it was too late and he was too tired to go up to the Omega’s tower (he slept there most nights, just because he loved the plethora of pillows).

Dandelion yawned as Geralt pulled his pants down, stretching lazily across the Witcher’s bed.

“It’s going to bruise,” said the Witcher, rubbing his thumb over Dandelion’s cock.

“I’ve had worse,” promised Dandelion.

“That doesn’t make me happier.” Geralt stepped away, gathering up a jar of salve from his dresser and coming back.

“Ugh, that smells,” complained Dandelion as he unscrewed the top, dipping his fingers in.

“You’ll thank me in the morning,” he said, rubbing the cream over his friend’s bruised genitals.

“Hmm. I suppose.” Once Geralt was finished Dandelion pulled up his pants, shifting around until he was comfortable, then giving the Witcher an expectant look.

“I’m going to meditate,” said Geralt softly.

“Fine,” said Dandelion. “But you’re going to lay with me, while you do it. I’m _traumatized_ , Geralt. Look at me.”

“Hmm. You don’t look traumatized,” he said with a snort. But he crawled into bed anyway, wrapping his arms around the poet and pulling him closer.

“You’re pouting,” said Dandelion a moment later, tapping his finger against Geralt’s lip. “What’s rattling around in that dense brain of yours?”

“Your friend-”

“Mir? She’s lovely, isn’t she?”

“She has a cock.”

Dandelion shrugged. “So?” he asked, curling into Geralt’s side and closing his eyes. 

“She’s a woman?”

“Gods, Geralt, of course.”

“Huh,” said Geralt. He shrugged. “Didn’t know that was an option.”

“This is the city, Geralt, not some backwater shithole. Everything’s an option,” said Dandelion cheerfully. “Including sleep, which is the option I’m choosing right now. Goodnight, Geralt.”


End file.
